


Rescue

by Occula



Category: U2
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occula/pseuds/Occula
Summary: Adam makes questionable choices and takes things too far. Edge looks out for him.





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on LJ in January 2005, but it dates back to the ff.net days, so probably 2001-2002. I think it's the second or third thing I ever wrote, and the first single-chapter. When I wrote this I was thinking about a one-camera style, with a hotel room as a stage with people entering and exiting. The format's kind of obnoxious, I realize.

All these things happen in hotel rooms.

The lights come on as two men enter. One is shorter, balding, handsome. He is helping the tall blonde one in glasses. The tall one sprawls on a chair. The shorter man helps him off with his shoes. The blonde is argumentative, in a weary kind of way. He wants to still be at whatever party they’ve come from. But he is clearly incapacitated.

The blonde man leaves for a minute. He closes the bathroom door behind him. The dark-haired one paces, putting his hands in his back pockets, then rubbing his forehead. The other man returns with his shirt open and falls across the bed. He reaches for the other’s arm. Thanks him. The shorter one turns off the light and leaves.

…

The lights come on as the tall man reels through the door with two women, a tall leggy brunette and a slender little black pixie. To the bed. Clothing is discarded. Depths are plumbed. There is much debauchery. Finally the man is sated, and shortly thereafter he is unconscious, still wearing his spectacles. The women look around the room. One goes through his pockets. She gives some of the money to the other one. Neither gives a sympathetic glance back to the figure on the bed as they leave. They don’t cover him, but the short one has mercy enough to hit the light switch on her way out.

…

It’s daylight. The tall man trudges naked to the door and admits the dark-haired man. He sits on the bed, covers himself with a sheet, holds his head, and is admonished. The shorter man seems to actually have tears in his eyes. _Can’t go on like this. Trying to kill yourself? Let me bring you home next time._ The taller man feels terrible. Fuck you. I’m a grown man. No harm in partying. Yes, I’m careful. Do you want to see the fucking condoms in the fucking rubbish? I said I’m careful. _God. Please. Don’t._ The shorter one turns away. _I just care about you, Adam, Goddammit._ I know. _I’m sorry._ No, I’m sorry. _I know._ I know.

…

It’s just getting light outside, this time. The door opens. Adam leans on two dark-haired men. Possession is transferred to the balding one. _I’ve got him. Thanks, B. We’re fine._ The door is closed. _Adam? Jesus, you’re heavy. There you go. What the fuck have you been doing?_ I don’t know. I thought it was just blow. _Look at you, that wasn’t blow._ Jesus Christ. I know. Something in it, I guess. I feel … doesn’t even taste like blow. How it goes bitter down your throat, you know? You probably don’t know. This, I don’t know what it is. Not meth, either. What the fuck was it cut with? Formaldehyde? Strychnine?

 _Adam, I just hope to God it wasn’t heroin. Jesus Christ, at least get an idea of what’s going up your nose. You could die._ Don’t lecture me. I’ll be fine. Just have to rest. Adam lies on the bed. Edge — thanks. I’m sorry, I, sometimes I can’t stop. _Why not? Is it so much fun?_ N-yes. It just feels good. It’s, well, you know. I can forget I’m a fucking loser and feel free and brave. Forget about things. Just, screw everything. It’s exhilarating. _You go too far._ I know -- it’s like, I mean to do half, and … then the other half does _me_. You don’t have to babysit me. I’m worthless.

_Not to me._

Adam is falling asleep. Don’t deserve this. Thanks. Edge closes a curtain. He covers Adam. Pulls a chair near and sits there. Watching.

…

Dark again. Edge and Adam burst in. They are angry with each other. _That’s just fucking enough, do you hear me!_ Who the fuck are you to say! It’s not even that late. Jesus, Edge! Why do you even go to parties! Agitated silence. _To look after you._ Well, you needn’t. I’m a fucking grown man, I’m a fucking rock star, I’m fucking single, maybe I just want to have some goddamn fun and get drunk and get laid once in a while. _Every night?_ Why the fuck not? _God, Adam, what’s the point? Doing lines like a bunch of hogs at a trough, fucking a complete stranger every night? Does Keith Moon ring a bell with you? John Bonham? Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Bon Scott? Elvis fucking Presley? Do these people sound at all familiar? _  
__

Being a rock star is completely wasted on you, do you know that? Jesus. I’m just having a little fun. And I think John Bonham died in a car wreck. _You were smoking crack, for God’s sake._ We were smoking rock. Rock cocaine. It’s not the same thing. _No?_ Just get the fuck out of here. Leave me the fuck alone. _You need to get some fucking control of yourself._ You need to shut the fuck up.

Their voices have risen. They are too close to one another. Adam shoves Edge. Edge stumbles awkwardly back against the door. Adam turns away. Walks away. Slaps at the lamp on the table and knocks it over. Picks up the TV remote and slings it across the room. He has transferred his anger to himself, furious and embarrassed that he’s struck out at Edge. Edge knows this. Adam stands at the window. He presses his forehead against the cool glass, clutching the curtain with one hand.

Edge goes to him. He puts his hand on Adam’s back. _Adam, I know I’m not doing this right. I’m sorry … I’m …_ Adam turns. His schoolteacherish face is stricken. He hugs Edge. Edge holds him. Thank you, Adam says. I know what you’re trying to do. Sometimes I don’t want to be saved. But I know you’ll save me if I let you. _Then let me._ I can’t.

…

It’s early morning again. Adam answers the door. He has one hand to his chest. Edge grabs him as soon as he’s inside and walks him to the bed. Thanks for coming. I’m sorry to call you. I just got scared. _Lie down. Let me feel your pulse. How much did you do?_ It’s hard to remember once you get started. A few lines earlier at a club. And a couple of pinches, you know. A half dozen white crosses. Then six or eight lines at Will’s place. It was like a fucking bassists’ convention over there. And then a couple back here. Three or four fat ones. Jesus, I don’t know, I mean, that’s not really that much. Must’ve been really pure stuff. She got scared and took off. She didn’t want to be here if I died. And I was trying to relax, but I could just feel my heartbeat, shaking me, you know? This never happened before. My fucking heart. And I didn’t want to be alone. And, I love Larry, but he’d be cross with me, and Paul would take me to hospital, and Bono would probably just call you anyway, and you’re so calm. _Shhh. It’s all right. Your heart’s really pounding, but it’s steady and regular. Lie down._

Adam lies down. He’s agitated and shivering. Edge covers him and sits on the bed by him. He strokes Adam’s forehead with a soothing hand. _You just need to think about something else, that’s all. Your body will calm down eventually, but you’re frightening yourself obsessing about your heart rate._

Edge is secretly alarmed. Adam’s heart is kicking in his chest. Edge can almost see it. Then Adam is burning up and throws the covers back. God, my skin is crawling. My scalp. Edge speaks of inconsequential things for a long time, asking little questions like _Do you remember?_ and _Were you there that time?_ to keep Adam’s attention on what he’s saying. He holds Adam’s hand. The sun has risen and the morning progresses. Finally Adam sleeps. Edge kicks off his shoes and slips in beside him. He puts his hand on Adam’s chest. Even in his sleep, Adam’s heart rate approaches a hundred. Edge can’t stay awake any longer, but he’s not going anywhere.

Edge wakes up. He hears the shower. It’s late afternoon. Adam lived. Edge thinks he remembers waking with his head on Adam’s chest once. Probably playing cardiologist in his sleep. He slips his shoes on and leaves.

…

Again they enter supporting each other as the sun rises. This time they’re both ruddy from drink and drink alone, laughing foolishly. Adam has gone drinking with the rest of the band and has not gone to one of his dance clubs, has not picked up a woman, has neither smoked nor snorted anything. _Oh, this isn’t my room._ You came here out of habit, to rescue me. _Love, rescue me._ This strikes them as disproportionately funny.

Did I ever thank you for saving my life? _I didn’t save your life._ It seemed like it. My heart was going to burst in my chest. That was scary as hell. _You scared the living shit out of me, Adam._ You were so calm. _All a façade._ Feel now. I’m fine. Edge puts his hand flat on Adam’s chest. See? _Thumpa thumpa._ Wait, I think it’s speeding up. _What?_ Adam puts his hands on Edge’s waist. You make my heart sing. _I make everything groovy?_ Disproportionately funny again.

Adam’s hands move another inch around Edge’s back. Adam starts a swaying little dance. Wild thing! C’mon c’mon wild thing! Edge complies, smiling. Adam kisses him on each cheek, flamboyantly. Mwah! Mwah! Edge flushes. Adam grabs Edge’s head between his hands and kisses him full on the mouth, firmly, and not as sloppily as his drunkenness would suggest. Edge’s arms slip around Adam’s body. They stand still like that, kissing, for some time. Then Adam leans back a little. I’ve decided to let you save me. _Good._


End file.
